Pursuing Sarah (Sarah Series Book 2)

by Julieann Dove

  “I told him about her.”

  “About Rose?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay.”

  “He walked away.”

  “He’s not going to meet her? What happened? What kind of dad finds out they have a child and walks away?”

  “I’m here now to pick her up. He’s coming at seven.”

  “I see.”

  “Is everything okay? I’ve left a few messages.”

  “I had work to do. I must’ve left my phone in my car.”

  Liar. He was never without that thing. I stood in the airport and watched a girl kissing her boyfriend. He was holding a duffel bag with one hand, her hand with the other one.

  “Well, I was just confirming you wouldn’t be here. No big deal.”

  “I sort of got the impression—you know, when he busted into the restaurant, then you two left—that I wouldn’t be invited for the reunion at the airport.”

  My head fell back on the seat. “It’s a bit complicated at the moment, that’s for sure.”

  “Yeah, well, I get it. Rose will meet her dad, you can rekindle whatever needs kindling, and…and…well, you’ll know what to do from there, I’m sure.”

  “I’m not rekindling anything, Carter.”

  “What were the flowers for, Sarah? Why did he fly all the way to Colorado? You told me yourself how you screwed up. Obviously he didn’t get that memo. It’s cool.”

  “It’s not cool. Sam is pissed. I’ve never seen him this mad. Well, erase that. He was insanely ticked at Gennifer when she showed back up in his life.”

  “One look at Rose and all will be forgotten. You have an amazing daughter, Sarah. She’ll be over the moon to meet her dad. And without the face piercings and body art, she has a good chance of a long-lasting relationship.”

  “Carter.”

  “What, Sarah?”

  “Don’t do this.”

  “Do what? You know, I’ve been thinking about something you said. About the rebound thing. How I bounce from Paige to a rebound to get over her. And maybe this was one of those rebound things. I mean, I’m comfortable with you. It’s natural.”

  “Comfortable? Natural?”

  “Yeah, I think after all is said and done, it’s a good thing Sam came back when he did. I always end it horribly with rebound girls. You remember that one…Michelle? Well, she was a good friend until we screwed it up and I dated her after breaking it off with Paige the first time.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You all are like a Hallmark postcard, Sarah. You and I have a great friendship, and I don’t want that to change. You’ve got history with Sam. Heck, Rose even shares DNA with the guy. It’s all good. I’m happy for you all. I’ve actually got a call coming in from Mom. I’ve got to take it. I’ll send her your love. Please kiss Rose for me.”

  “Carter.”

  “Good-bye, Sarah.”

  I heard the click and dropped my hand to my lap.

  I sat on Rose’s bed, in her 10x10 room and looked around at all her things. The dolls, the little dollhouse we pretend play in sometimes. I’m always the ghost that haunts the slumber parties of Miffie and Sadie. They’re the uptight girls who invite Mary Jo over and play dress-up. I bought a Ken doll last Christmas just to shake things up a bit, but Rose leaves him in her closet and says he’s not supposed to be in the house without the mommy and daddy being there. Hmmm…Daddy. All she knows about that species is that they carry toddlers on their shoulders, kiss Mommy after work, and locks all the doors at night. At least that’s what she says her friends’ daddies do. For so long she’s wanted one of her own, and I thought by now she’d have one, too. I just didn’t figure I’d have to date, weed out the bad ones, then fall in love and introduce her to him after we married and I knew it was a solid thing. The last thing I wanted was to have her get set on a guy and have him leave. I knew firsthand that scenario sucked.

  And so here I am, watching as she prattles on about this doll and that trinket, setting them up on her dresser and shelves, adorning them with strokes of her little hand and smiling infectiously at how marvelous they look added to her collection. A Disney Princess poster hangs beside her dresser, and her dirty clothes basket is full from her week away.

  “So, sweetie…why did you get a Harry Potter little thingamabob?”

  She whipped around. “’Cause, Mommy. Mia has Harry Potter everything. And she tells me that stupid wand she has is real. I know it’s not.” Her eyes widen and her thumb points to her chest.

  “But sweetie, you’ve never seen Harry Potter. Why would you want a…a…whatever that is?”

  “Just so I can tell her I have something of his. And she’ll get jealous.”

  “But jealousy isn’t good, Rose. You don’t want people to be jealous.”

  “Well, I’m jealous of her wand. She says it can do magic.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  This conversation was actually making me not focus on what I came into her room to say. I could hear the Jaws theme play in my head as I looked at my watch and knew Sam was due there in fifteen minutes. I know, I know. I waited until the last minute to tell her. I mean, there was the forty-five minute car ride. In my defense, she barely took a breath, telling me every Disney character that she met. Then there was the dinner. Which had a few breaks in the conversation and I could’ve woven it in over macaroni and cheese. But who wanted to lose their appetite over a dad coming into the picture? My picture. Our perfect picture. Why did we need a daddy anyway? We were just fine. Now I might have to share. Now there’d be a third party to consider. My word wouldn’t be the end-all. She would have a dad to weasel it out of. Trips to Europe? Where you could get taken…did she even know Liam Neeson? And Sam would fly her in a private jet. Out on unsupervised dates? “Let me just ask Dad,” she’d say, pouting lips and all. I’d be run over like a smashed penny on a railroad track in no time.

  I looked at my watch. Twelve minutes.

  “So…Rose.”

  “Yeah?” She fixed a mermaid plush so she’d stand beside Nemo. Wrong movie, but whatever.

  “You know how you ask about your daddy and I say…”

  “He’s missing.”

  “Okay.” Really? She remembered that? It was so long ago. We were shopping in a mall, saw a man put his kid up on this fake helicopter ride and she asked again where her daddy was. Missing was all that came to mind. Puppies came later. Well, solicitation of puppies if she didn’t stop asking.

  “Well he was, that’s true. Sort of.” I didn’t want to be a liar. Credibility would count now. “And guess what?”

  “What?” She turned to look at me.

  “I found him.”

  Her eyes opened like flower blooms after a summer rain. “You found him? Where is he?”

  “Funny you should ask. He’s coming here.”

  “Here? To live?”

  “No, not exactly. He’s coming here to meet you.”

  “Then he’ll live here? This is better than my Harry Potter goblet. Now Mia won’t tease me for not having a daddy.”

  “Mia teases you for not having a daddy?”

  “Yeah. I told her he was lost.”

  I palmed my head. Tell the girl one thing—one thing—and she never forgets. Tell her twenty times to close the shower curtain and you might as well talk to the wall.

  “Honey, that was just an expression. You know, like he’s lost. Silly Daddy.” I shook my head.

  “Oh.” The place in the middle of her nose wrinkled. “When is he coming?”

  I checked my watch. “Now.”

  “Now? I need to put on my fancy dress then.”

  “Rose, no, not your fancy dress. We don’t have time for that.” Rose got a dress a few years ago with millions of ruffles. A woman Aunt Heidi knows gave it to her, and Rose thinks it’s the cat’s meow. Not to mention it fits her more like a shirt now…an angry shirt because it has so many folds of lace…but she wants to wear it to big tadoos—picnics, pool parties, an
d that one time I took her friends to the movies to watch a princess turn superhero. I begged her not to, and luckily no one in the posse laughed. Jenna wore something similar. They must’ve compared outfit plans and dressed accordingly.

  “Mommy, you know that’s a special dress. And this is a special time. I’m meeting my daddy!” She squealed. “Does he have brown hair or yellow? Is he tall or short? Does he like chocolate ice cream or cookie dough?” She ripped off her top and ran to her closet, pulling down that horrid mess of a dress.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not sure? You know what he likes, don’t you? You do kiss him, don’t you? Martin Fields says that’s how you have a baby.”

  “It’s been awhile.” Credibility shot. “And don’t listen to Martin Fields. His sister is always in suspension.”

  “I’m so excited, Mommy.” She jumped around.

  Her ponytail sagged in the back. I began fixing it when I heard the doorbell ring. She squeezed her little hands into fists and her mouth twisted into a giant smile. “I have butterflies in my tummy, Mommy.”

  “So do I.” I smiled before I turned my head and threw up a little in my throat. I was so nervous.

  It was the shortest distance to the front door I’d ever walked before in my life living there. Three giant steps and I was there. It was like an escalator moved underneath me, floating me to the large white opening with the brass doorknob. I held it and took a deep breath.

  “Hi, Sam.” I held it open.

  He stood, clasping his hands in front. No real expression was on his face. I would be better off playing poker with him than introducing him to my DNA carrier.

  “Sarah.”

  I moved aside, ushering him to enter. I watched as he looked around the front room. Nothing big, just a sofa, two chairs, a coffee table, and a console with a television setting on top of it. My pictures were simple—a horse ranch in one and a painted vase with flowers in the other one. Nothing like his Picasso prints at home in Charleston. Or the nice architecture ones of downtown. I even had a piece of green pottery I made sitting on the table by the lamp.

  “So, she’s in her room, waiting, I suppose, to make a big entrance. She did this on her fourth birthday party, too.” Oops, I should avoid the milestone talk. His face grimaced when I mentioned it.

  Just then, Rose walked in. She was charming. I felt a bit sad, thinking she was trying to put her best foot forward. When really I was the stupid head for keeping her dad away from her.

  I walked over to her, taking her hand. “Rose, this is…this is…” My head tilted. Yes, I knew his name, but how was this going down? Would she try him on? Try out Sam first—graduate to Dad? “This is Sam Turner. He is your dad.” I swallowed.

  I turned to Rose. “Sam, this is Rose.”

  A wide grin spread to her face. She cautiously walked to where he stood uncomfortably. He held out his hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you Rose.”

  “It’s nice to meet you…too.”

  See, I should’ve said the Dad intro. Now she was confused.

  “Well, have a seat, Sam. Rose just got back from Disney World. She has so much to tell about her trip. She saw dolphins, the princess castle, where Harry Potter does his…whatever he does.”

  “Where have you been?” Rose blurted. Her feet where crossed and she held tight to my hand.

  “Um, when exactly?” Sam stroked the back of his neck.

  “Where have you been all this time? When I was little?”

  His eyes darted to mine. I looked away.

  “I live in South Carolina. Have you ever been there?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “What were you doing there?”

  “I work at a company. I help businesses so they don’t go bankrupt.”

  Clearly he didn’t get the memo she was turning five. Her nose did that wrinkly thing again. “Why didn’t you come here…and live with us? Are you going to now that you know where we are?”

  I didn’t wait for the look of disdain. I focused on the large blue rug underneath our feet. How I would kill to be a fiber at this very moment, and not the wicked mother who kept the dad from knowing his daughter roamed the earth.

  “Well, I wasn’t too sure about things.”

  “Things?”

  “Sweetie,” I interrupted. “Sam was confused about where you were. Where I was. But now he does, and we do, and it’s all good.” Want a puppy with that garbled junk? She was five—how much could she retain and understand? I had years before she went to therapy for this mishap. By then I’d get it together and know what to say.

  They both had the look of utter confusion stamped on their faces.

  “So how about I go in the kitchen, whip up a couple apple slices and Cheese Nips…you know, something to break the ice. And you all get acquainted.” I didn’t wait for agreement. I just flew off the sofa and practically went running from the scene of the crime.

  “Okay, Mommy. Can I show him my room? I got some pretty cool things on my trip. I think he’d like the Ariel doll.”

  “I’d love to see the Ariel doll.” Sam got up to follow Rose.

  I looked around the kitchen entryway and smiled, and then went in pursuit to locate a device to knock myself out. Then again, I did promise apple slices. I was on a thin thread of trust issues here, so I got a couple of apples from the fridge and washed them for slicing. My phone rang on the counter. It was Maggie. I lunged to stop it from ringing.

  “Hello?”

  “I just bumped into Liz at the store. She told me about Sam. Are you breathing into a bag? Are you perusing bridal magazines? What’s going on? Why didn’t you call?”

  “He’s actually here. He’s met Rose,” I whispered, holding the phone close to my mouth.

  “Shut up. Are you serious? Then you’re in need of bridesmaids…I look horrible in teal, I should just mention for future reference.”

  “Yeah, you can save that bit of trivia. It’s not exactly a happy reunion, Maggie. More of the kind where he’s hiding his dagger so Rose doesn’t see it. You know, he wants to make a good impression then kill me later. I’ve seen that look before.”

  “Oh boy. Do you need me to come over?”

  “Nah, I’ve got this. Just be on hand for a late-night call where I’m blathering nonsense about why my life is in shambles. Have your counselor hat on, along with your best pal one.”

  “You’ve got it. I’ll be awake. I’ve got my own issues of extreme dating guilt.”

  “Dating guilt?”

  “Yeah, he called. Seems he liked that first date and wants another. I hate letting people down.”

  “Oh boy. And you know he’s the only pediatrician in Calvert. You might have to go to the city if this goes bust.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Uh-oh. This didn’t sound good. But at least it was something to look forward to. Someone else’s life falling apart, becoming unglued. Call me a wicked person for loving a dash of company with my misery.

  I heard Sam’s voice become louder. “I’ll call you later. I hear them coming.”

  “Okay.”

  I hung up the phone and pushed out the apple slices with the gadget that carves them perfectly. They walked into the kitchen.

  “Mommy, he knows every single princess. Can you believe it?”

  “I can.” I handed her an apple slice and looked pleased.

  I offered one to Sam and he passed.

  “Yes, I do. And do you know why I know all the princesses?”

  “Why?

  “Because I have a little girl who used to love princesses.”

  “Another little girl?” She seemed worried—her eyes squinted and she stopped chewing.

  “Yes, her name is Sophie. And she’s nine years old. Just a few years older than you. Well, almost five. She turns another year older very soon.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s back home in South Carolina. Where I live.”

  “Where you live?”

>   “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you going to live here now?”

  “Well…no. I live there. Sophie goes to school and has friends there.”

  She turned to me. “Are you her mommy?”

  “No. She has a different mommy.”

  “A different mommy?”

  “Yes.” I swept the core into the trash and prayed it would all end soon. The investigation, the family tree countdown, the geography lesson. It would be so much easier to wait until she got older, have her spit in a cup and send it off to Ancestry.com. What this was doing was placing too much confusion on everyone.

  “Would you like to meet her?”

  I shot a look at him. As if I didn’t see that one coming.

  “Your other girl?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, my other girl.”

  Her eyes scanned the counter.

  “Only if you want, sweetie. It’s no big deal, if you don’t.” I tried to take the pressure off her.

  “I’d really like it if you did. I think you all would get along. And I know she is going to go crazy when I tell her she has a little sister.”

  “A little sister?” She perked up. “I’m a little sister?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, I want to meet her. She can tell me about boys and put makeup on me and curl my hair.”

  “Well, that’s a bit much. She lives somewhere very far away from here.” I swept her hair from her eyes.

  Her face drained of excitement again.

  “Maybe you could come for a long visit. That is, if your mom agrees. She used to live there, you know? She liked it in Charleston.”

  “You used to live there, Mommy? I thought you only lived here?”

  “That was a long time ago, Rose.”

  She bit at her apple. “Okay, I’d like to go meet her.”

  He grinned and wiped a bit of white apple flesh from her cheek. “Sounds like a plan.”

  I waited on the sofa until Sam finished reading Rose a bedtime story. Her choice. I kissed her before he went in, so the last person she saw tonight was him. She was soaking it up till the second the front door shut with him on the other side of it. I was waiting for that moment as well, just not soaking it as much. Sort of feeling pangs of electrocution with each passing minute. His stare was icy, and I was doing enough self butt-kicking for a lifetime.